Closer, Somehow
by whovianallover
Summary: Sherlock is back and John is noticing a new kind of friendship between the Consulting Detective and his Pathologist.


**A/N I recognise this could be a bit terrible, but bear with me, I've just rebooted writing since getting an assessment that required me to write a short story. Hope you enjoy! **

Closer, Somehow

The day John Watson discovered his best friend was still living, he had made his was from his new flat to Bart's morgue to pick up a certain pathologist for a coffee date. What he hadn't expected was there to be company in the morgue. As he burst through the doors, the first thing John noticed was the height of the man standing next to Molly. He then noticed their proximity. And then he recognised the man. Sherlock Holmes. "Molly?" John breathed, a wave of confusion contorting his face.

"Oh, no." Molly murmured and rushed over to John, catching him before he hit the ground, "You're alright, John," she soothed, "It's alright."

"What's he doing here Molly? Really, what is going on?" Molly sighed and stood up, helping John up as she did so. When they were settled, she turned her head to Sherlock, who was still standing, paralysed at the autopsy table where Molly was working, "Do you want to do the honours, Sherlock?"

Most things had returned back to normal for the Consulting Detective and his Blogger in the following months after the former's return. John moved back into 221B and the couple were taking cases again.

John and Sherlock were in the morgue, Sherlock performing experiments whilst Molly Hooper sat filling in autopsy reports. John sat at a chair Molly had pulled up for him and was studying the pair. Molly rose from her desk, stretched her back and went to move past Sherlock, and as she moved passed him, rested a hand on his back, where his shoulder met his shoulder blade. Sherlock pushed his stool in to let her pass and Molly smiled as she passed. As she headed towards the door, Molly stopped where John was sitting and turned around to ask Sherlock whether he wanted anything from Bart's canteen. John remembered the day in the morgue before Sherlock had jumped, and the similarity between her offers momentarily paralysed him, so he braced himself for Sherlock's harsh reply.

"Yes, Molly, coffee. You know how I take it." Sherlock murmured, not looking up from his microscope. Molly didn't move after his reply though and Sherlock looked up at her and groaned, "Oh, come on Molly, don't be boring."

Molly let out a small laugh. "You know I won't get you anything unless you say it." John was taken aback, he had seen a new side to Molly following Sherlock's return, but he hadn't seen anything like this; Molly Hooper standing up for herself!

Sherlock sighed heavily, "Fine, Molly will you get me coffee," he paused and Molly nodded expectantly, "please." He finished and John laughed incredulously,

"You got _**him**_to say please?" Sherlock was about to cut in when Molly replied,

"It takes a certain amount of tough love and patience but nothing's impossible," Molly smiled. Sherlock groaned.

"You two are acting like children."

"No," Molly said, looking back at the Consulting five-year-old, "_you _are acting like a child. _We_ are having fun."

"Yes, at my expense," Sherlock whined. But Molly was having none of it, "Remind me Sherlock, who is it getting your coffee?" Sherlock didn't answer, instead he busied himself with his microscope. "I thought so, I'll be back soon," She said as she turned "I'll be expecting a thankyou when I come back." Molly added, and she closed the door behind her.

"Wow," John breathed, "she got _you _to say please."

"I believe we have already addressed this John, do try not to be repetitive," Sherlock bristled, taking something down in his notes.

"You're avoiding it." John smiled conspiratorially. Sherlock just looked annoyed. "Do enlighten me John, what am I avoiding?"

"You and Molly, I don't know how, but you're closer, somehow. She makes you better."

Sherlock shook his head, "Why do I need to be better?" he paused, "Molly, she- I don't know how- Sometimes I would leave the flat, for weeks, even months on end, sometimes with injuries that would have been beyond her ability to mend. When I returned to the flat- and I always did- she would-" he seemed to search for the right word, "fix me."

John was surprised his jaw didn't literally hit the floor. He had never ventured to ask much of what the pathologist and detective did in the three years Sherlock was 'dead', he was content with what he knew: that Sherlock was busy hunting down Moriarty's network and that he would live with Molly until he had a lead.

It was that time Molly decided to bustle through the heavy doors of the morgue, carrying a packet of chips and two coffees. She set one coffee down on the bench Sherlock was working at and he looked up at her, "Thankyou, Molly," he said. Molly smiled in approval, John noticed with a jolt she had been doing that a lot recently, and they weren't her usual smiles, they were genuine, friendly smiles.

"You're welcome, Sherlock," Molly said, sitting down, "you're very welcome."

**I hope you liked it. Do leave a review, I'm not really sure how I did with this. :/**

**-Rose**


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